I don’t know what I’ve done but I’m guilty. They strap me into the chair. I wonder if it will hurt, if it will be horrible. The power hums as they turn it on. I pray the best I’ve ever. Then they flip the switch. I feel strange but not afraid. Something is wrong. They look at each other, turn the power off, mumble something about a malfunction. They unstrap me. I get up and stretch, share jokes with the executioners. I think, this is where they let me go. But they fix the problem, sit me down and tighten the straps. I don’t need to pray. I did it well enough the first time. I hear the power go on.